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femgenficathon2006-09-13 08:23 pm
Sabriel's Choice: A Fork in the Road?
Author: A Wigeon
Rating: PG
Warnings: Those who are afraid of small bells should steer clear.
Prompt: #38: If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days.--Sylvia Plath.
Summary: Sabriel is currently the Abhorsen - slayer of the undead and foe to all nercomancers. However, her new title and responsibilities as queen make things a little complicated. How does she work it out? Read on to find out... This story is based on the Sabriel novels by Garth Nix. Read them. Over and over and over. (Author's Note: This story doesn't comfortable fit the prompt, but it provides a bit of a prologue if you will to a possible situation the prompt describes)
Sabriel's Choice: A Fork in the Road?
Sabriel dizzily got to her feet, shaking the wooden and stone fragments off of her as she did so. She glanced around, almost absently noting the deaths of her old schoolmates at her feet. She looked up at Kerrigor, the Free Magic sorcerer, the Greater Dead, that had done this.
She reached up towards the baldric slung across her chest, snapping open the leather pouches that held two of her seven bells. But she hesitated, shaking her head as if to clear it. Something wasn’t right, she dimly gathered. She had done this before, she had already bound him…
Kerrigor’s gravelly, grating voice cut into her thoughts. “Yes,” he said. “You did bind me. But I’m back, and this time I’ll kill more of your friends, and even…” he pointed to the body of Touchstone lying crumpled on the stone floor.
Then she was surrounded by her friends, all the girls she went to school with. They were all dead, she saw, with bloodied faces and expressionless eyes. “Why did you kill us?” they asked in unison, the grim chorus making her stomach churn, her guilty feelings squeezing tears from her eyes. “We were just children, and you killed us…”
They closed in on her, arms up to grab her, and she crouched down screaming-
-And hit the ground awkwardly on her right shoulder and hip, jerking herself upright, throwing the… sheets away from her?
She stood quickly, swaying from what she realized now was sleep. She was in her bedroom in the castle at Belisaere, capital of the Old Kingdom. Kerrigor was bound as she had thought, bound into the form of a black cat, with a charter enspelled collar and a miniature Ranna - the smallest of the bells - attached to keep him that way. And it had happened over six months ago, and the bodies of her old schoolmates had long since passed the ninth gate of death – at least, she prayed that they had.
And Touchstone wasn’t dead. Neither was he in bed, which meant that he was probably in the throne room, again, planning the recovery of the Old Kingdom, even though it was – she glanced at the stars in the night sky – around three in the morning.
There wasn’t much chance of her going back to sleep. She’d had this nightmare many times before, and she knew that it would at least be a couple of hours before she’d be able to force those images out of her mind. She may as well go and see how Touchstone was doing, and see if she could help. It would at the very least take her mind off of her dream.
She put on a heavier gown and slippers, and crossed the bedroom, and went out into the hall. There two guards stood, the swords hanging an inch out of their scabbards showing that they were there for defense, not ceremony. Together with the charter marks, though unseen, she knew to be on their foreheads meant that they were sorcerers as well as fighters. Their strong presence gave her some comfort, and she smiled at them as she passed.
She went by others as she made her way towards the throne room. All eyes glanced her way as she passed, but no one met her gaze. Several curtsied, others bowed. She hurried past them, nodding back, hoping that none would address her as milady before she could get out of earshot. It had taken her long enough to accept the fact that she was the Abhorsen, binder of the dead and the bane of necromancers everywhere. But to be Queen of an entire Kingdom, let alone one she had never really been in touch with up until six months ago, was even harder to get used to.
At least, she thought she was going to be Queen. She and King Touchstone were certainly together, and everyone else thought she was going to be Queen. So, why hadn’t he asked her yet?
But to her relief no one addressed her at all before she arrived at the throne room. Passing more guards, she entered. She was used to seeing Touchstone along with many of his advisors and military officers, gathered around a long table covered in maps, reports, and letters. It was therefore a surprise to see him alone, and the papers strewn along the table covered by books, tomes, scrolls, and more books, of all shapes and sizes.
He looked up as she walked in. “Hi,” he said, in what she took to be an absent, preoccupied tone.
“Hello there,” she said back, smiling as she came up to the table. “You look as tired as I feel.” She looked down at the table, and noticed that all of the books related to Charter magic. “What are you up to?”
He hesitated. “Our military resources in the kingdom are scarce,” he replied, not seeming to answer her question. “The twenty years of lawlessness in the kingdom, and the dead forces riding the rise of Kerrigor have really taken it’s toll on the land.”
Not meaning to be rude – he seemed to be talking almost to himself – she picked up the book closest to her. “Deƒcription of the CHARTER symbols used in conjunction with the neceƒƒary BELLS of the NECROMANCER to hold a spirit permanently in DEATH” was the title of the chapter the book was open to. The book continued in much the same archaic narrative, describing intricate bell combinations, Free magic incantations, and certain Charter magic “weavings” – a term she had never even heard of before. Touchstone’s crash course in advanced Charter magic apparently still had a long way to go.
“Many Charter stones are broken,” Touchstone continued, “including of course the Great Stones in the aqueduct below. I’ve been doing some research,” he indicated half a bookshelf’s worth of books in front of him, “and I think, with help of course, I can repair the Great Stones of the Charter.”
Sabriel looked up from the book, faintly surprised. His knowledge of Charter magic still impressed her. His guilt of his hand the in murder of the royal family three hundred years ago and his unwitting help in the rise of Kerrigor kept him in a state of almost perpetual low self esteem, and even with the cause of raising the Old Kingdom back to its feet, his attitude about himself has still prevented her from seeing his true potential.
“However, as powerful as the Great Stones are, and as much as they aid the strength of the Charter, it’s still not enough. There are still cracks in the dike, as it were; broken charter stones all across the kingdom create gaping holes in the Charter that necromancers and the dead can use to cross into Life, as you well know. Without mending any of the other stones, we don’t stand a chance.”
“So, what are you looking for?” she asked. “Some way to mend the stones from a distance, or…”
He smiled wryly. “I wish that were possible. No, all the research I’ve done tells me that Royal blood has to be used in the creation or the mending of any charter stone, and that the person the blood came from has to be there to create or mend it.” He pushed the books aside, revealing a map of the Old Kingdom. It was upside down, but she knew it well enough to know that it was shaped in a tapering north-south wedge, with Belisaere on the eastern side of the wider end of the edge up north. The great wall was at the narrow end, separating the Old Kingdom from the more modernized Ancelstierre.
Touchstone pointed to the north west, across the Old Kingdom and a little south of Belisaere, at the town of Olmond. “Olmond is the second largest town in the kingdom. There are a great many charter stones there, and so it would be the best place to start mending the Charter. Unfortunately, it also means that there is a massive undead presence there. Although few patrols have returned from the area, there have been reports of a necromancer named Hedge in charge. I’ve heard about him, and whoever goes is going to need some help.”
Sabriel looked at him. “Who else would go to bind the dead but me? I’m Abhorsen – it’s my purpose.”
Touchstone nodded. “I understand, Sabriel. I didn’t want to order you to go.”
“No matter,” she said. “What kind of help will I be getting?”
He hesitated. “That’s the real issue. You need Royal blood, and that’s me. But I’ve been too slow in rebuilding the capital, and I need to stay here to rebuild the Great Charter stones.”
She frowned. “Then…”
“There’s… a second option.” He hesitated again, then gestured towards the book she was holding. “A long time ago, there was a very powerful Charter mage named Urza. From what I’ve heard, and been able to read, he was so powerful that he desired more than what the Charter could give him. So he started dabbling in Free magic. Of course I don’t have to tell you what kind of a stink that raised – one of the Princes of the Old Kingdom, practicing Free magic. They tried to kill him, in a battle so terrible I don’t even want to go into the details, and did succeed, but they couldn’t drive him past the second gate of death. So the Abhorsen at the time – the seventh, I think – placed a Charter binding on him. It was sort of similar to the one I was in, but instead of making me go to sleep, he’s apparently just lost in the mist of the Second Precinct and lost in the binding, unable to move closer to Life and unwilling to go deeper into Death.”
“I still don’t understand,” Sabriel said. “How is he going to help us?” A slow, cold feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach. There was a way this conservation could go, a way that Sabriel never thought Touchstone would go. But he seemed desperate, and hesitant to mention this to her at all… could he really be serious?
Touchstone didn’t meet her eyes. “If he was… brought back into life, he could help you re-seal the Charter stones in Olmond.”
The cold feeling grew, jolting her mind. As it grew, she felt anger grow as well. How could he be suggesting this? “Touchstone, you’re not making any sense. I’m an Abhorsen, for Charter’s sake! My job is to keep necromancers from summoning dead and returning the dead back into death, not to help them!”
Touchstone raised his hands as if to placate her. “I know, Sabriel, I know. But I really don’t see what other choices we have.”
“We?” she snapped, unable to hold back. “When have I ever been a part of this? Or do I just get dragged in when you need to dredge up reinforcements from death?” Unbidden, Kerrigor’s form rose in her mind’s eye, grinning maliciously and licking his fetid chops.
“Pease, please!” Touchstone pleaded. “I’m sorry Sabriel, truly I am. I’ve gone about this all wrong. I don’t know what I’m doing…” he slumped forward, eyes downcast.
Normally his fits of depression made her angrier than anything else he ever did. But for some reason she saw him differently, his defeated posture due more to the weight of the responsibility of King and of being the last remaining member of the Royal family, duty-bound to practically recreate an entire kingdom.
“Touchstone, I’m sorry too,” Sabriel said, moving to him and placing her hands on his shoulders. “I know it’s been rough for you, and I’m sorry I haven’t helped more. But bringing someone back from death is just something I can’t do as the Abhorsen.”
He looked up at her. “What about as Queen?”
She laughed humorlessly. “Of all the times to bring that up-”
“No, I’m serious,” he pressed. “Marriage aside-” he brought up a hand to quell the protests forming on Sabriel’s lips (not even mentioning marriage until now, and not even being the important part of the conversation!) “your responsibility is to the people of the Old Kingdom. And you need to be prepared to do whatever is necessary to protect them.”
Sabriel was speechless, unable to decide where to begin her retort. Was he lecturing her on responsibility? She had been an Abhorsen for slightly longer than he’d been King. And she still couldn’t believe that he had just proposed to her, somewhere in that lecture.
Touchstone took her hands in his, and looked straight at her. “Sabriel, please understand. The Kingdom is close to collapse – just because Kerrigor is gone, it doesn’t mean that we’re in the clear. You and I are the only thing that stand between the Old Kingdom and another three hundred years of darkness. Please understand that I would do anything to save my people – our people.”
Sabriel closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus on the issues. He was right, she saw belatedly – she couldn’t get caught up in their personal issues when the Kingdom was as stake.
But how did she weigh her obligations, and her responsibilities? On the one side were the lives of the entire Kingdom, and that they could possibly be spared by restoring first the Charter Stones, and then order. On the other hand was the fear of the necromantic practices – as an Abhorsen, she constantly dealt with the battle of walking the line between fighting the Necromancers and becoming one. She even had a set of Necromancy bells to summon and control the dead, to aid her in her mission. How long would it be before she was raising undead soldiers for an army?
She looked at him, and he must have seen the painful conflict in her eyes, because he said “I’m sorry about the position I’m putting you in, but I wouldn’t ask you for this if it wasn’t important.”
Sabriel nodded slightly. “I know.” She thought of another Sabriel, long ago, who had gone into death as a girl to retrieve a classmates’ bunny from death. Why had she done it? She had wanted to keep her friend from losing her pet, her friend. Had that been the beginning? Was she doomed to slide down the slippery slope, into the darkness?
It didn’t matter, she realized. It didn’t matter what happened to her, as long as the kingdom survived. Just like being an Abhorsen, being a Queen meant that she couldn’t be a person, if it got in the way. She was a tool and a weapon of the people.
“Okay,” she said, and took a deep, calming breath. “I’ll do it.” As Touchstone smiled in relief, she wondered how far down this slope she’d fall. And whether she’d ever find her way back up again.
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I never did understand Sabriel the way I did Lirael. But I do see this as fairly IC for her. Mogget would probably pitch a fit, though XD
Too tired for a more substantial comment. But thank you for posting Abhorsen fanfic ^^ Yay!
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Well done.
(Aside: I loved that you have Hedge here. Awesomeness personified.)
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